


Blue Moon

by MissScorp



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 16:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18781525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/pseuds/MissScorp
Summary: He was a man who once had a dream in his heart. Now, he’s just a man who wants to go home.





	Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blue Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/480430) by Mavericks. 



**2023**

The sign was hard to miss. It danced cheerfully over the door of a stone building barely ten strides off the street. Strands of multicolored lights led the way up to the second-floor gallery. More lights wove through the elegant wrought ironwork. Chinese lanterns hung from an awning covered in a sea of lush greenery.

A variety of pots filled with an assortment of flowers perfumed the cool, crisp air. It made for an odd, yet decidedly pretty picture. One that appealed to either a weary traveler or hungry patron. Nobody sat at one of the small tables, enjoying either a drink or one of the culinary creations the Melody Lounge was famous for.

Not at this hour, anyway.

Steve peeled off his helmet as he climbed off his bike. The first time he came here, he was looking for a little peace and quiet. A place where he could sit, have a drink, and think without any interruptions. What he found, instead, was a friend. No, he thought as he headed towards the entrance.  _I found more than a friend here. I also found family._   _A place where I belonged_.  _Where I can just be… me_.

He returned to this place when he had some downtime or needed the quiet comfort it offered. This was the closest thing he had to a home. Sure, he had his own apartment. It wasn’t  _home_. He didn’t feel the same there that he did when he was here. For one, he was alone in his apartment.  _And it lacks the little things that make a place feel like home._

The only person who knew about this place, and the people who owned it, was Bucky.  _And why shouldn’t he know_?  _They’re his family, too_.

That’s what brought him here now. Family. He owed it to himself, and Bucky, to come here and check on them. The snap took Jackson from them. He needed to know that he came back with everyone else.

More, he needed to see Jamie. To explain why he volunteered to return the infinity stones to where they belonged. He couldn’t leave without making sure she understood this was his choice. His responsibility.  _I’m the man out of time_ , he thought as he opened the door.  _It only makes sense that I’m the one who goes back to return the infinity stones._

Steve stepped inside the waiting area and felt himself transported backward to 2012. The…

…

Recessed lighting cast a warm glow over the dark wood wall panels, brought out the gold in the marble dance floor, and shimmered in the chrome and polished glass. He heard the unmistakable strains of  _Sleepy Lagoon_  as he made his way towards the bar. For one wild and crazy moment, he imagined a familiar brunette seated at one of the tables, a welcoming smile on her lips, and a slight twinkle in her eyes.

He shook away the melancholy of that particular wish and took a look around. The place was empty. The clock above the bar said the time was ten after three.  _No wonder_. A dozen swivel legged stools sat by a round table. Steve snagged one, set it in front of the bar, and took a seat before searching for a waiter or bartender.

It wasn’t like he could drink himself into oblivion. The Super-Soldier serum prevented him from achieving any sort of mind-numbing level of intoxication. A drink just sounded like a good idea after the last few weeks. He stared at the neat rows of bottles along the back of the bar.

Some he recognized by the type of alcohol they were, but many, like  _Parrot Bay_ and  _Malibu_  he never heard of before. He made a note to mark the names down in the notebook he kept stashed in his jacket. They’d go along with everything else he wrote down this week. A humorless laugh escaped him. At the rate he was going, he'd need a new notebook before the end of the week.

He looked at the end of the bar. The woman sliding freshly washed glasses on the rack above her had hair that seemed to reach the floor, a face that might have been pretty once, and hands that moved with an almost hypnotic grace.

He started to lift his hand to get her attention but stopped when  _she_  walked out from behind the door situated at the far end of the bar. Steve felt like a bolt of lightning hit him and sent raw electrical energy throughout his body. Only, instead of stopping his heart, the current jump-started it. He could hear and feel the race of his body like a loud hum that drowned out the soft music, the tinkle of the glasses, and the clip of her heels as she crossed the floor.

She wasn't beautiful. Not like Peggy. She was by no means unattractive, though. Honey gold curls bounced around a face that seemed strangely familiar.  _Why do I feel I know her_? he questioned as his mind jumbled. It was ridiculous, of course. He didn’t know this woman. How could he? He had been in a state of suspended animation until a little over a month ago. Something about her, though, tickled the memories at the back of his mind.

Steve just couldn’t figure out  _why_.

Her lips curved into a slow, shy smile as her eyes met his. Keen intellect, bright curiosity, and more shimmered in those blue depths. She moved towards him in a swish of blue silk, bringing a tantalizing mix of jasmine and vanilla that hit him soon as she got within arm's length.

"Can I get you something?"

"Whatever you got on tap is fine, ma'am.” He managed to work up a polite smile. "If you don't mind serving me a drink this late."

"I don't mind in the least, Captain Rogers.” Her skirt swirled around her legs as she spun away to retrieve a glass. She paused in mid-reach. "Would you prefer a bottle, instead?"

"Draft is fine." Since he had no clue what beers were being sold in this day and age. "You know who I am?"

"Of course.” She smiled at him from over one shoulder. "Who doesn't know Captain America?"

 _Right_ , he thought as she worked the tap. People could learn anything by going on this thing that Fury and Stark called the  _internet_. Shoot, he found  _Captain America_  on exhibit at the Smithsonian. Found his exploits filled books and online articles. Documentaries about the war could even be found on something Stark called  _Netflix_. Why anyone would want to watch those was beyond Steve. Last thing he wanted to do was relive the war by watching it.

"Are you okay, Captain Rogers?"

"I'm fine, miss." He gave her a grin that edged towards sheepish. “Just got a lot on my mind is all."

"Well, if you feel like talking about it.” She set a frothy glass in front of him. “I'm here to listen."

"Thank you, ma'am, but you wouldn't be interested in listening to any of my problems."

"Try me."

Steve found his resolve wavering in the face of that challenge. He longed to tell someone about how rough the last few weeks had been for him. There had been no time for him to assimilate to this world. Almost as soon as he woke up, he found himself partnered with a bunch of complete strangers — one the son of a man he considered a friend back in his own time — and shipped off to face some weird-looking alien things wanting to take over the Earth.

That was fine. It was all well and good, in fact. There was a job to do. He did it. Now that the battle was over, he had to figure out everything he managed to avoid while focused on stopping Thor's brother, Loki, and his army of Chitauri.

To do that, though, he had to first figure out who Steve Rogers was and how he fit into this modern world.

And the truth was that he didn’t know.

"It's been a long couple of weeks,” he finally admitted with a heavy sigh. “A very long few weeks, in fact.”

"Well, I’d be feeling a little overwhelmed if I was just waking up after almost seventy years in hibernation, too."

"You sure know an awful lot about me.” He smiled as he lifted the glass. “But I don't even know your name.”

"Oh my god…” Her cheeks colored prettily. “My mother will just die of embarrassment if she ever finds out about me spouting off at the mouth before properly intruding myself. To be fair, though,” she went on in one long, rush, “I never thought Captain America would ever end up in my bar. And I certainly didn't expect you'd be…"

"Whoa, slow down." As utterly adorable as Steve found her nervous babbling, he feared she'd pass out if she didn't pause to take a breath. "How about telling me your name?"

"It's Rebecca." She held a hand out to him. "But everyone calls me by my middle name.”

“Which is?”

“Jamie."

"Well, Jamie.” Steve closed his large, calloused hand around her smaller one. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

“Oh.” Her dimples winked. “The pleasure’s all mine.” She brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, actually. Which wasn’t possible because you were dead.”

“Why did you want to meet me?” Genuine curiosity chased away his exhaustion. “I’m just an ordinary man.”

“Oh, but you’re more than some ordinary man.” Her eyes blinked wide. “Why, you’re a war hero! Lots of people think of you as a superhero, in fact.”

Steve didn’t feel like a hero at that moment. Truth be told, he felt every bit of his nine decades. Still, it was nice to have someone acknowledge his service to this country.

“You have other heroes who defend and protect the world.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a nod. “We do. But you’re  _Captain America_. You fought through enemy lines to save a bunch of soldiers that the army gave up on.”

“How do you know so much about me?"

Not that Steve didn’t have a few guesses.

"Nana Becca used to love telling my brother and me stories about you and our great-uncle." She busied her hands by wiping down the bar with a rag she retrieved from the sink. "I kinda tend to feel like you are part of the family because of it."

"I know your great-uncle?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes, you knew him."

 _Knew_. Not  _know_. Another reminder about how the world continued on as he lay at the bottom of the Arctic. Knowing people he had known survived the war, got married and had children — who had children — made him ache for everything that might have been had he not crashed that bomber.

He and Peggy could have gotten married.

They could have had a daughter.  _Jamie could be our granddaughter_. And that? That hurt worse than any physical pain he ever endured.  _I could be sitting here and watching my granddaughter as she finishes closing up for the night._

He’d make sure she got home safe before returning to the little house Peggy and he’d have bought after the war ended.

“Captain Rogers?” Concern made Jamie’s voice breathy. “Are you okay?”

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I was just thinking that you gotta be mistaken. I don’t know anyone named Rebecca."

"I'm not mistaken.” A small, sad smile played about her lips. “You did know my great-uncle, James.”

“James?”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” She tucked her hair back behind her ear. “Or should I have called him Bucky?”

Steve’s heart thumped wildly in his chest as that name rang in his head. His breath hitched. Jamie, the bar, the world outside, it all disappeared. He found himself back on that train in the Alps. Back to when the only thing that mattered to him was reaching Bucky before he plummeted into the valley below them.

_The cold wind slapped him in the face as he scaled the side of the train, desperate to reach Bucky who clung to a side rail for dear life._

_“Bucky!” The wind swallowed his words. He raised his voice so he could be heard over the roar of the wind. “Hang on!”_

_Bucky’s gaze met his. If he heard him, Steve didn’t know. He seemed to understand, though. Metal groaned and rivets snapped. One side of the rail let go. Bucky slid down with a strangled gasp as Steve fought to find another foothold._

_“Grab my hand!” He stretched out as far as he could. “Come on!”_

_Bucky reached for him, fingers desperately seeking to grab his, but the rail snapped, sending him plummeting into the vast abyss below. His horrified screams reverberated in Steve’s head as the train chugged on down the tracks._

A jolt of electricity broke him from his dark thoughts. Steve looked and found Jamie came around the bar and set a hand on his arm.

“Sorr…”

“Don’t be.” She squeezed his arm. “You lost your best friend.”

“Yeah.” He stared down into his beer. “Yeah, I did.”

He lost more than just Bucky in that war. He also lost himself.  _How can I be the man I was back then? The world is no longer the one I remember. Everything has changed_.  _Everyone I know is either dead or close to it_.

“Captain Rogers?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

Steve opened his mouth to assure her he was fine, but a deep voice came over the speakers and stopped the words dead.

" _Blue Moon_ …” they warbled. “ _Without a love of my own.”_

Music started soon as the man finished speaking. It was mainly guitar at first, but other instruments soon joined in, creating a lovely, if not a bit haunting melody. Steve looked at Jamie, but she wasn't the one standing in front of him.

No, it was Peggy.

She looked just as she looked that night in the Whip & Fiddle. She traded her drab uniform for a dress as red as her lipstick. Her hair hung in loose waves to her shoulders. The smell of her perfume… Steve swore he could almost smell it.

He missed one opportunity to dance with a woman and had seven decades of regrets because of it. No way did he want to repeat that mistake. No, Jamie wasn’t Peggy. He wasn’t trying to replace Peggy. All he wanted was to take a night off from figuring out this world, himself, and his place in the scheme of things.

He just wanted to have a dance with a pretty girl.

"Jamie?" He slid off the stool and held out a hand to her. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

She gaped at him. "You-you want to dance?" she finally managed to squeak. "With-with me?"

A frown formed between Steve’s eyes.

"You’ve never been asked to dance before?"

“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head. "I didn’t even dance at my prom.”

“Why not?”

“Because guys don't wanna dance with a girl like me.”

That made no sense to him.

“Why wouldn’t they want to dance with you?”

“Because I wasn’t the right partner."

“They don’t know what they missed out on then.”

“Most guys I asked to dance felt that way.”

"Well." Steve gave her his most disarming grin. "I'm not most guys."

 _And that_ , he realized as she placed her hand in his. That was the truth. He wasn’t most guys. He was Captain America. War hero, decorated soldier, Avenger. He came from a time where men treated women with courtesy and respect, holding doors for them, helping them with their coats, escorting them home after a date.  _While some things might have changed in this world_ ,  _other things have remained the same._

"No, you’re not most guys, Captain Rogers," she agreed as he led her out to the empty dance floor. "You're better than them."

His arm circled her waist. “Why don’t you call me Steve?”

Her dimples winked. “If you’d like.”

“I very much would.”

“Alright then.” Her arm settled on his shoulder. “Steve.”

“Much better.”

They slowly started to sway to the music. Steve found himself forgetting he was a man outta time. The hours spent wondering about who he was, how he was going to fit in with this modern society, and what he could offer the world that it didn’t already have faded from his mind. His hurt, anger, and grief lessened.

He forgot about the Chitauri invasion, Loki and the Tesseract, S.H.I.E.L.D, and teaming up with Stark’s son, a doctor with an angry alter-ego, a displaced God, an archer, and a red-haired woman more dangerous than any HYDRA agent.

Steve laid his cheek against the cap of her hair, allowing the subtle scent of her shampoo lull him into forgetting everything. The Chitauri invasion, Loki, Fury, waking up in 2012 all faded into the back of his mind. He allowed himself to pretend — for a little while, anyway — that he found a way to crash that bomber into the Arctic without him having to stay onboard.

He met up with Peggy as he promised her, he would. They had their dance. The war ended. They got married. Lived a quiet life in a small town.  _Maybe somewhere near here_ , he reasoned as the man sang about the moon turning gold.  _Perhaps we’d have become Jamie’s godparents_. He found himself liking that thought. More than liking it, in fact.

He’d have told her stories about his and Bucky’s childhood adventures. About all the times that Bucky saved his butt.  _And the one time I saved him_. He’d take her to Coney Island where they’d ride the Cyclone until they thought they’d puke. Then they’d walk the promenade and play a few of the games before ending up at Nathan’s where they’d eat hot dogs and drink beer. Just like he and Bucky did before the announcement of war hit radio waves and everything changed.

_I’d tell her about what happened to Bucky aboard Zola’s train._

Steve’s fingers curled into the silk of her dress as he flashed back to those final moments. Bucky’s terrified screams. His horror as he could only watch his best friend into the valley disappear.

Gone forever.

He wrote the report on what happened onboard that HYDRA train himself, leaving nothing out, and assuming full responsibility for Bucky’s death. He never told anyone about what actually happened, though. Not even Peggy. He just couldn’t bring himself to verbally tell her about what happened on that train. Not then. Not with Red Skull still needing stopping.

No, he corrected as she heaved a tiny sigh. He wasn’t looking to stop HYDRA or Red Skull. He was avenging Bucky by making sure they couldn’t go through with their plans.  

The silence broke him from his thoughts. Steve frowned as he lifted his head.  _How long has the song been over?_  Part of him resented the world intruding on this moment and ending it before he was ready for it too. Another part reminded him about how all good things must eventually come to an end. Slowly, and with more regret than he imagined he’d feel, he stepped away from Jamie.

"It’s been a real pleasure dancing with you,” he said as he slowly backed to the door. “But I really oughta be going.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

That question brought him up short. He hadn’t given a thought about where he’d stay really. After he left Stark and the others, he climbed on his bike and hit the open road with no set destination in mind.

“I’ll find a place,” he assured her. “Don’t you worry.”

“Why don’t you stay at my place, Steve?” She took a few steps towards him. “At least until you figure things out.”

Steve couldn’t deny how tempted he was to accept her offer. It’d be nice to have someone help him acclimate to this world. Still…

“No.” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

 _Relic_ , he heard Stark say. He ignored him. Some things might have changed but there were a few things — moral decency and propriety among them — that hadn’t. Men didn’t live with women without benefit of marriage. That’s what his mother had raised him to think and believe.

“My brother and his girlfriend also live with me if that’s your concern.”

“And they won’t have a problem with a stranger coming home with you?”

“But you’re not a stranger.” She reached out to take his hand. “To me and Jackson, you’re family.” She squeezed his fingers. “So, what do you say?”

“I don’t know…”

“You can tell us about our great-uncle.”

That was all she needed to say.

…

 _I stayed a month_ , he recalled as the memory slowly faded.  _Helped Jamie around the house and bar_.  _Met people and_ became  _part of the community. Found out who I am and what I offered to this world that it didn’t already have._

More, he discovered he wasn’t alone. He had a family. Not blood family, but good as in his mind since Bucky was their great-uncle. Jackson even reminded him of Bucky.  _I thought he was Bucky reborn_ , he thought as he opened the door and stepped inside the waiting area. It wasn’t just the physical characteristics the two shared. Jackson possessed many of Bucky’s other traits and characteristics, as well.  _Especially his ability to charm women and beat up bullies_.

Intelligence and athleticism secured him a full ride to Penn State. After graduating there at the top of his class he went on to earn his medical degree at Johns Hopkins. His residency, as well as his life, got cut short by Thanos.  _No_ , Steve corrected as he spied Jamie behind the bar.  _His life ended because we failed to stop Thanos from erasing half the population from existence._

In the aftermath, he knelt next to Vision's demolished body, unable to do anything but accept the responsibility for what happened. Half of the world was dead because  _he_  failed. He was Captain America. Earth’s First Avenger. His greatest fear was he’d find he lost Jamie and Jackson along with Bucky and the others.

The entire community got wiped out in the snap. Jamie, and her nephew, Grant, were all that remained.  _She never blamed me for what happened_. No, she simply curled her arms around his waist and told him they’d get through it. They’d survive for their family and friends.

Make their deaths count for something.

They managed to get a measure of justice when Thor decapitated the Mad Titan on Titan II. Avenging the fallen didn’t absolve him of his guilt or allow him to move on. Steve lived with what happened for five years. Then Scott Lang revealed there might be a slim chance they could bring everyone back.

 _Did Hulk really bring everyone back when he snapped his fingers_?

That’s what he was there to find out.

Steve made his way towards the bar as a song he didn’t recognize played over the speakers. She liked playing a variety of music while she closed up. It helped her unwind from the evening. He came to appreciate that during the time he spent here.

“Jamie?”

Taken by surprise, Jamie jolted, and spun around from the register, where she had been counting out the day’s earnings.

“Steve?”

“Were you expecting someone else?”

“No.” She gave a quick shake of her head. “Oh, Steve, I have been praying for you to return since the moment you left.”

“I promised I’d come back.”

“Yes, you did.” She came around the counter in a rustle of silk as red as the tablecloths to slide her arms around him. “You also promised you’d bring everyone back and you did that, too.” She leaned back to give him a misty-eyed smile. “I don’t know how you did it, but you did it.” She tucked her head beneath his chin. “You brought them all back.”

 _Not without extreme sacrifices_ , he thought as he buried his nose into the hair at her temple. Natasha, Tony. Vision, who died before the snap with Thor’s friend Heimdall. The Ancient One. Losses that couldn’t be undone by Hulk snapping his fingers.

“Jackson…?” His fingers curled into the material at her back, dreading the answer but asking the question plaguing him since arriving here, anyway. “He’s…?”

“On call tonight or he’d be here to welcome you home.”

Steve breathed out a soft sigh of relief.

“They’re all back then.”

“Yes.” Her hands stroked his back in slow, soothing circles. “You did it, Steve. You brought them all home.”

“Good.” Steve closed his eyes. “That’s good.”

“Why don’t I finish up here?” She suggested as a song he didn’t recognize started to play. “That way we can get you home.”

 _Home_. Just the thought brought tears to his eyes. He longed to go home. He wanted to go home so much it hurt. He couldn’t, though. Not until he returned the infinity stones to where they belonged.

“I’m not here to stay.” He pulled back to look at her. “I only came here to tell you that I’ve got to go away again.”

“But…” She frowned her dismay. “You just got home.”

“I have something I have to take care of.”

“What?”

“I have to return the infinity stones to where they belong.”

“Why do you have to return them?” Frustration rippled in every syllable. “Why can’t someone else do it?”

“Because it’s something I need to do.”

_Because it’s the only way that I can go home._

He didn’t tell her that. He didn’t think she’d understand his reason for traveling back.  _She’ll try and talk me out of it. Tell me I can’t go back because it’d disrupt the timeline. That I can’t abandon Bucky, Sam, her, and Jackson._

“You’re not coming back once you’ve returned the stones.”

Jackson wasn’t the only one to inherit the Barnes intelligence.  _She’d have made a helluva agent for S.H.I.E.L.D,_ he thought, a small smile curving his lips. Thankfully, Jamie was content running her bar and raising her year-old daughter, Becca.

“No, I’m not coming back,” he told her honestly. “I’m going to live the life I would have if I hadn’t crashed that bomber.”

“With Peggy?”

“If she’ll have me.”

Her face softened.

“Oh, Steve, trust me.” She leaned up to brush a kiss to his cheek. “She’ll have you.”

“She’s waited almost eighty years.”

“Then don’t make her wait anymore.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t anticipated her accepting his decision. He got saved from saying anything by the song that started to play.

_“Blue Moon...”_

_There’s no better way of saying goodbye_ , Steve decided as the music began. He held a hand out to her and smiled.

“Shall we?”

She placed her hand in his.

“I’d be honored.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! I hope this finds you well! 
> 
> I wrote this piece with the idea that life goes on after a war. Soldiers come home, people get married, babies are born. Investigating a bit into Bucky's history it mentioned he had a sister. I decided to incorporate that idea here with his sister having children who had grandchildren, one of whom Steve chance meets while he's searching for himself following the end of the first Avengers.
> 
> I’ve included a link to the song that inspired this piece for the curious. 
> 
> Please, if you like this piece, kudo/bookmark it. Take care, everyone!


End file.
